'Addio!' she said. 'May God reward you for your good heart; you came when I was sad--I am happier now that we are friends.'
Thus they separated and the thoughtful Faustina, whose porte-chaise was waiting in front of the house, told the men to carry her home. She was obliged to pass the castle. The dusk was not yet as dark in the street as it was in the houses and one could recognise people's faces. Faustina looking distractedly in front of her recognised, in a porte-chaise passing hers, Sulkowski's pale face and black moustache.
She rapped at the window and cried:
'Fermate!'
Sulkowski leaned out. Both porte-chaises stopped so that their windows were opposite each other and their occupants could converse.
Faustina dropped the glass; the minister, a little surprised, looked at her.
'I must have a word with your Excellency,' she said in Italian.
'Beautiful diva!' said the Count, 'if it is a question of some quarrel, Padre Guarini is for that; if about some favour, our gracious King never refuses you anything, but I have no time to listen to you!'
'Count! the question is not about myself, not about a favour, but about you and the King,' said Faustina boldly.
'I am at your service and I listen to you,' said the Count smiling.